The Perfect Christmas - Debbie Macomber [49]
“Fine,” he said tersely.
“Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t love me. Do that and I’ll leave and never trouble you again.”
“I’m not playing word games with you, Cassie.”
“This isn’t a game. It’s my life, my future—our future.”
He squinted up at the ceiling. “Why do women have such a flair for the dramatic? I suppose you’re going to spend the rest of your life pining away for me.”
“No, I won’t,” she told him. “I love you and it’s up to you to accept or reject that love. It’ll hurt me, but I know I’ll get over you in time. In every likelihood I’ll marry someone else one day and perhaps even have children. Rest assured that if you reject me, I won’t leap off a bridge.”
“That’s a relief.”
She moved away from the chair, her heart pounding so hard she was astonished it didn’t echo through the room. She gave him ample opportunity to stop her.
He didn’t.
With her hand on the door, she turned back to look at Simon one last time. He sat at his desk, reading. She wasn’t fooled. He might not admit it, but he loved her.
“Merry Christmas, Simon.”
He glanced up and his eyes flared as though he was surprised to see her still in the room. “Oh. Merry Christmas.”
“Goodbye.”
She didn’t wait for a response. Head held high, she marched out the door. Once on the other side, she closed her eyes, almost collapsing to the floor as a wave of deep loss hit her.
Ms. Snelling’s chair scraped as she stood. “Oh, dear. Are you all right, Ms. Beaumont? You look like you’re about to faint.”
“I—I’m okay,” she stammered. “Thank you…?.” she added politely.
It was exactly as Cassie had feared. Simon Dodson, professional matchmaker, was an expert at finding love for everyone except himself.
Chapter 16
“Hold the elevator!” Cassie shouted, rushing across the condo foyer on Wednesday afternoon. When she saw that the lone occupant was Mr. Oliver, she automatically slowed her steps. No need to rush; he’d take sadistic delight in letting the doors shut in her face. To her amazement, he thrust out his arm and stopped them from closing.
Cassie hardly knew what to think. “Thank you,” she managed as she hurried into the elevator, loaded down with her mail, the newspaper, her purse and a couple of last-minute Christmas purchases.
The newspaper.
She hadn’t even realized Mrs. Mullinex hadn’t “borrowed” it since their dinner together. That was progress.
“My pleasure,” Mr. Oliver said as the elevator doors glided shut. “Can’t thank you enough for the great dinner.”
It seemed wrong to confess that if it hadn’t been for Simon she would never have thought to invite Mr. Oliver.
Try as she might, she couldn’t get Simon out of her mind. She’d given it her best shot, told him how she felt and done what she could to convince him that he shared her feelings. But she hadn’t expected the strength of his conviction in denying his love for her. Nor could she understand why he fought it so hard.
What bothered her most was his inability to admit to her face that he didn’t love her. If he had, she might have believed him. However, for reasons she’d likely never know, he refused to accept her love.
“Nice young man…”
“I’m sorry,” Cassie said. “I didn’t catch what you said?”
“That Simon of yours. He’s a fine young man. You’ve chosen well.”
“I…thank you,” she whispered. No need to explain that he wasn’t “hers,” or that she wouldn’t be seeing him again. Cassie had been sincere when she’d told him she wouldn’t pine away for the rest of her life. He’d made his decision and she’d made hers.
The elevator stopped, and Mr. Oliver held the door for her to exit first. When they stepped into the hallway, Mrs. Mullinex opened her condo door and, seeing the two of them, waved cheerfully. Cassie noticed that the other woman’s eyes immediately went to Harry Oliver.
“Oh, what perfect timing,” Phyllis said. Her hair was brushed into soft waves and she looked lovely.
“Good afternoon, Harry,” she purred.
“Hello, Phyllis.”
Cassie